


Blood, Flesh, and Crack- A Tale of Stupidity

by orphan_account



Series: Crack on Alcohol [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cheating, Cocaine, Crack, Drugs, Im so sorry again, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Just something, M/M, Oh god, Other, aaaaaaaahhhhhhh, craaaaaaaack, everything i write is cracl, im so sorry, its, its not serious, just go with it, ohjfhsdfa, yeah - Freeform, you heard right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Dream cheats on his boyfriend George, and decides to promptly fall in love with an airplane. Also, he’s high on crack and a president in no way reminiscent to Donald J. Trump. (Everything in this tale is all fake and based on my brain, at the time I was drunk on nothing but my own imagination. Nothing is real, everything is cake.)
Relationships: Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) & Everyone, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Everyone & Everyone
Series: Crack on Alcohol [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138556
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Blood, Flesh, and Crack- A Tale of Stupidity

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry i had to

Dream, the majestic 563th president of the US of A, stood there, nuzzling his private airplane. He wasn’t picky about airplanes. Not at all. He just liked his private jet more, for it did not actively try to run him over, like his first- or was it the fifth love? In the background somewhere, he was sure that his boyfriend George stood. _He should be grateful, Donald thought, hugging the love of his life harder in a fit of perfectly justifiable rage, that I even care about his life. Yes. This was the LIFE! Cheating on his boyfriend (though it was nothing new, he supposed), snorting crack, and of course, showing affection to his darling plane!_

“Dream!” Oh god, the man of the moment marched over, doom trailing behind him in its inevitability. _Oh shoot, when did he become so frightening? Why did I even date him? Goddamnit screw this. Oh, wait. No, it was only because he was hot._ “Dream!” the man called again.

He mustered his courage. He gathered his wits. And he spoke, “George, I told you, there’s nothing going on between me and the stupid plane!” Though it is a very beautiful, magnificent plane. He cursed himself internally for besmirching the name of his love. 

“Why are you hugging the wheel thing then, Dream?” Uh oh.

“I am doing no such thing! Such blatant lies! You are worse than the fake news media!” he tried to explain. But unluckily for him, George had enough brain cells to see through the story. I need more crack to get through this damn conversation. 

“What! Dream? What is this-this crack nonsense?” Oh no, oh god, I spoke my thoughts aloud.

“Nothing! Uhm- just look away while I hide the remains of my snorting of crack!”

“What?” he was even more scandalized.

“No time, gotta run!” Dream quickly braced himself for the long distance he would have to run to the White House to reach his beloved stash of crack. “Farewell, Penelope!”

“Who’s Penelope?”

“Nobody! Just a plane!”

“DREAM COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW YOU RAT,” George screeched. Yes, Dream knew he was batshit crazy. This just confirmed his ever-present suspicions. He couldn’t bear to leave his beloved plane, but diet coke and crack awaited! He tore off in a sprint, and the one thing that ran through his head was, I am doing exercise! This was much more exercise done in the entire year alone. His genitals were on fire! And so, he ran. Through the hallways, screeching, “BLOOD, FLESH, CRAAAAACK.” Through the office, knocking marble statues down to the ground, screaming, “I AM FATE ITSELF!” And to the bedroom, desperately scrambling for his diet cokes and of course, the white powder from God himself (yes he did read a bible, don’t let the fake news media tell you otherwise, he was just submitting to a higher power) that was in the form of crack cocaine.

**Author's Note:**

> i am producing crack like no tomorrow


End file.
